


What Time Is It? Birthdays!

by DeathByJumpingFrenchman (orphan_account)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: But it;s a last minute birthday gift so, F/F, F/M, Happy Birthday!, Here's some drabbles, Other, They have errors, they don't make sense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 05:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10075094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/DeathByJumpingFrenchman
Summary: Happy Birthday! You know who you are. Here's some drabbles that were written late at night that will get taken down in a bit.Basically just lams, marliza, mullette, jeffmads.





	1. Texting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [G](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=G).



> For G. Happy birthday. 
> 
>  
> 
> (To anyone else reading, I'm sorry)
> 
> [Oh god, I’m gonna do this again in a month for F. And then when my other friends get into Hamilton (it’ll happen!) I’ll have to do it aGAIN. HELP ME. WHAT DID I SIGN MYSELF UP FOR?]

From Unknown Number

1:27 AM

Did you know that scientists have determined that a group of unicorns is called a gay? 

 

To Unknown Number

1:32 AM

Wow, that’s pretty stereotypical. Not all gays like unicorns. Shame on you, scientists. 

 

To Unknown Number

1:33 AM

Also this is the wrong number. 

————

From Unknown Number

9:25 AM

You know, I’ve been wondering who would receive a text from a random number and text back five minutes later. 

 

To Unknown Number

9:47

And I’ve been wondering why you’d text something like that to a random number. 

 

From Unknown Number

9:48

I was drunk, obviously. 

 

To Unknown Number

9:48

And you had zero typos or obvious grammatical errors? 

 

From Unknown Number

9:49

What can I say, I’ve always had a knack for being perfect. 

 

From Unknown Number

9:49

Also, I may have copy and pasted it from an article of bad gay jokes. 

 

To Unknown Number

9:50

Do I want to know why you were texting a random number a bad gay joke? 

 

From Unknown Number

9:50

Honestly, probably not. 

 

From Unknown Number

9:50

I mean, I couldn’t tell you seeing as most of what I remember from last night came from these texts 

 

From Unknown Number

9:50

But I’m assuming it was bad. 

 

To Unknown Number

9:51

…

 

To Unknown Number

9:51

Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better about keeping up a conversation with a stranger. 

 

From Unknown Number

9:51

Yeah, probably not your smartest move. 

 

From Unknown Number

9:52

I could be a murderer or a stalker

 

From Unknown Number

9:53

What’s your name? 

 

To Unknown Number

9:53

Wow. I really love the way you switched from ‘i could be so dangerous’ to ‘give me info’. 

 

To Unknown Number

9:53

It’s John tho. 

 

From Unknown Number

9:54

Come on John, it’s not good etiquette to give your number to a stranger. 

 

From Unknown Number

9:54

Especially ones named Alexander 

 

To Alexander

9:55

I live life on the edge. 

 

From Alexander

9:56

Yes, I can see that. 

 

From Alexander

9:56

Is there any way you trust me enough to get a coffee? 

 

To Alexander

9:56

Uh, no. 

 

From Alexander

9:57

Yeah, I’d’ve been really concerned if you’d said yes. 

 

To Alexander

9:58

Well, Random Drunk Guy Alexander, it sure has been fun talking, I’ve gotta go lecture my roommate about being out so late-wait. 

 

To Alexander

9:58

ALEX?!?!

 

To Alexander

9:58

WHAT THE HELL???

 

From Alexander

9:59

… 

 

From Alexander

10:00

I may have gotten a shitty $20 phone to flirt with you anonymously over text. 


	2. Crying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday! You know who you are. Here's some drabbles that were written late at night that will get taken down in a bit.
> 
> JeffMads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For G. Happy birthday.
> 
>  
> 
> (To anyone else reading, I'm sorry)
> 
> [Oh god, I’m gonna do this again in a month for F. And then when my other friends get into Hamilton (it’ll happen!) I’ll have to do it aGAIN. HELP ME. WHAT DID I SIGN MYSELF UP FOR?]

The door screeched open and James stepped in massaging his temples. If Alexander Hamilton threw one more fit about the world limit on the joint paper they were doing, he was going to-wait. 

 

James paused, looking around as he heard a sniffle from the back of the bathroom. 

 

Ignoring it as best as he could, James walked to the sink and began to splash water on his face, savoring the momentary calm it brought him. 

 

But then, again, he heard a weak sniffle from the back of the bathroom, probably the stall furthest from the door. 

 

Cursing himself for being so committed to other people’s feelings, James called a soft,  “Hello?”

 

There were a few seconds of silence before he got a response. 

 

“Just go away.” 

 

At the sound of those words, James froze. The voice sounded so utterly it actually hurt to listen to, but there was something about it, the lilt of the the ’s’ and the slight slurring of the ‘w’, that almost made James think of… but no, it couldn’t be. 

 

Slowly, heart pounding, he made his way to the stall. James took a deep breath to calm himself before promptly exhaling it in a gasp. 

 

As James stared at the beautiful mess in front of him it was like the air had been crushed from his lungs by a cruel callused hand. 

 

“Thomas?” He asked softly, tears welling up in his own eyes as he saw his best friend look up slowly as he flinched away, dread in his eyes. 

 

“Oh,” He said shakily, “Hey Jimmy.” He attempted a watery smile that looked more like a grimace. 

 

“Oh, hon,” James cooed, sinking to the floor as he found his voice and shifted over to Thomas. 

 

While his first instinct was to ask what was wrong, James knew that wouldn’t get either of them anywhere, seeing as Thomas was in no state to relive what was putting him in so much pain. It was because of this, he told himself, that he slid his arms tentatively around the boy in front of him and pulled him to his chest as he propped them up against the bathroom wall. 

 

Thomas was stiff for a second, and James was terrified he had done something wrong. Then, with all the force of a great epiphany, Thomas began to cry into James’ chest. 

 

James, bless him, was one of the best hug givers in the entire school, second only to his cousin, Hercules Mulligan. As he sat there, he rubbed Thomas’s back, gently calming him down with ‘shh’s and ‘it’s all right’s. 

 

Gradually, Thomas began to regain his composure, and after a minute drew back, trying to recover what he likely saw as lost dignity. 

 

“Sorry,” he said quietly, smoothing down the  places in James’ shirt he had ruffled, and James tried not to enjoy it. Now was the time to be comforting over his friend, not fawning over his very touch. 

 

“It’s all right,” James said with the precision of someone practiced in calming others down. 

 

“It was Jackson again,” Jefferson began, adverting his eyes and picking at his shoelace. James clenched his fists. 

 

“What’d the bastard say this time?” He asked, voice gruff with things he longed to say to Thomas. 

 

“Just the usual. Talked about my abilities or lack thereof and made fun of my small number of friends,” he said unconvincingly, still refusing to meet James’ eye. 

 

“No he didn’t,” James said, trying to get information without prying. 

 

Thomas stayed silent. Pry it was, then. 

 

“Come on Thomas. Tell me. I’m your best friend,” James attempted a small smile to go with his reassuring words. 

 

Thomas shook his head. 

 

“It was nothing new.” 

 

“Bullshit!” James exclaimed, trying to keep calm. 

 

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, James,” Thomas said, his voice going cold. 

 

“Yes you do,” James went from angry to defeated in one moment. “Why don’t you trust me? Am I not your best friend? Do you want me to get someone? Please Thomas, I just want you to be oka-“

 

“My makeup.” Thomas said, finally meeting James’ glare that morphed into a wide eyes look of shock at Thomas’ words. 

 

“What?” James asked, his voice laced with the horror churning in his gut. 

 

“Said I wasn’t pretty enough,” Thomas continued. “He called me a–Jesus James, I can’t even say it. You can probably guess what he called me, but then he said I wasn’t pretty enough,” Thomas choked on his words but continued, “Not pretty enough for you.” 

 

James was thunderstruck. 

 

“How the hell James. How the hell did he know? Is it that obvious? Is there a sign hanging over my head that says ‘In Love with James Maddison’? Do you know? Why the fuck do you still stick around, if you know-“ James cut off Thomas’s rant as quickly as he could. 

 

“Wait wait wait,” James began. “You love me?”

 

Thomas’s eyes began to fill with tears again as he nodded like it was the most painful thing he’d ever had to do. 

 

“And it’s not like I stand a chance because I’m not good enough, I’m not pretty enough, I’m not–“ As Thomas began to hyperventilate, James gathered him into his arms as quickly as he could. 

 

“Shh, shhh, don’t say that, don’t you dare say that,” James said as he pulled back from the smaller teen in his lap just enough to take his face in his hands. 

 

“You are beautiful Thomas, beautiful. You are the most stunning person I’ve ever met, inside and out,” James felt tears sparkling in his own eyes as he wiped away the ones on Jefferson’s cheeks. 

 

With a shuttering breathe, James looked into Thomas’s awestruck, disbelieving eyes and kissed him. 

 

As he pulled away he smoothed some of Thomas’ perfect bouncy hair down and kissed both his cheeks. 

 

“And I love you too.” 


	3. Story of Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday! You know who you are. Here's some drabbles that were written late at night that will get taken down in a bit.
> 
>  
> 
> Really Short Lams. Like, five lines,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For G. Happy birthday.
> 
>  
> 
> (To anyone else reading, I'm sorry)
> 
> [Oh god, I’m gonna do this again in a month for F. And then when my other friends get into Hamilton (it’ll happen!) I’ll have to do it aGAIN. HELP ME. WHAT DID I SIGN MYSELF UP FOR?]

**Story of Tonight (Reprise)**

 

Alexander looked in the mirror, running his hands through his hair, shaking as he tried to calm himself. His actions were stopped by the door opening. 

 

"Alex!" Boomed his best man and flower girl, Hercules Mulligan. "Man, you need to get ready!" He grinned, holding up Alex's suit. 

 

"Where's Laf?" He asked, momentarily calmed by his friend's actions. 

 

"They'll be here in a sec, they're just checking on John." Alex's heart skipped a beat as he heard his fiancée's name. 

 

"Is he doing okay?" Herc smiled knowingly. 

 

"Your boy is fine. Stressed like you, but fine." Alex smiled, thinking about his beautiful husband-to-be. 

 

"I better get ready then." 


	4. Afterlife Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday! You know who you are. Here's some drabbles that were written late at night that will get taken down in a bit.
> 
> Strange and crack-y Lams and Marliza

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For G. Happy birthday.
> 
>  
> 
> (To anyone else reading, I'm sorry)
> 
> [Oh god, I’m gonna do this again in a month for F. And then when my other friends get into Hamilton (it’ll happen!) I’ll have to do it aGAIN. HELP ME. WHAT DID I SIGN MYSELF UP FOR?]  
> Chapter Text

“Welcome to your first session of Afterlife Therapy, I’ll be your counselor George-“ 

 

“Sir?” 

 

“Mr. President!” 

 

“Mr. Washington?”

 

“Ey, boss man!” 

 

Four heads turned to look at John, who shrugged in his own defense. 

 

“The slang nowadays is… edgy.” He said, trying not to cringe at how forced he sounded. 

 

“Um, anyway, we’re here to discuss the state of the relationships-“

 

“Wait, George, I’m still not getting this. Why, of all things, did you decide to do couples therapy?” 

 

“ _Afterlife_ Therapy.” 

 

“I’m terribly sorry Mr. Washingon, but I don’t really think we need to be-“ 

 

“It has been brought to the universe’s attention that there’s some bad blood between the four of you.” 

 

“There really isn’t.”

 

“I actually don’t think so.”

 

“Yee be wrong.” 

 

(Everyone ignored John but Alex, who was giving him a bemused smirk).

 

“Maria. You’ve been slighted and treated poorly by Alexander. That has to count for some bad feelings.” 

 

“Sir, I really don’t think you understand—“ 

 

“And you, John, Alexander seemed to move on so quickly after your death!” 

 

“But he really didn’t—“ 

 

“And Eliza. Oh, poor, sweet Eliza. I’m so sorry for how my so—excuse me, _Secretary_ treated you.” 

 

“Oh for the love of God she’s gay!” 

 

The room turned towards Alexander at the sound of his voice. 

 

“In fact, we’re all gay! Eliza and I? I believe we were what the children now call ‘beards’.”  

 

There was a beat of silence. 

 

“… Well, I guess you don’t really need me after all.” 


	5. Twitter

John Laurens considered himself to be a calm, considerate man. That said, there were certain things that could get to even the most grounded of people. Finding Alexander Hamilton with a shattered phone and tears running down his face was one of them. 

 

As soon as he entered their flat ('just because we're living together doesn't mean we're sleeping together!') and looked around for Alex, he could tell something was amiss. 

 

"Honey! I'm home!" He called playfully, frowning slightly as he was met with silence. "Alex?" He asked, walking down the hallway. "Alexander." 

 

His pace got faster and faster until finally he stood in the doorway of Alexander's room, where a shattered phone lay in the corner and there was a lump he assumed to be Alex under a heap of blankets on his bed. 

 

"Alex?" He asked cautiously as he carefully moved the blankets aside. "Are you all right?" 

 

What he was met with was not a pretty sight. 

 

Alex, from what John could tell, looked like he had been dragged through hell. His face was red and splotchy and his breathes were coming out in short bursts, like he was on the verge of heavy sobs. He was shaking, positively quaking, and there was a sense of fear looming in his eyes. 

 

“I’m sorry,” was all he whispered, before falling into John’s arms and squeezing his eyes shut tight against the world. As the tears began to pick up, so did the pace at which he was apologizing. 

 

“Shh, shh mi querido, it’s okay Alex, it’s okay,” He reassured, not sure himself what ‘it’ was. Finally, Alex shifted and John took the opportunity to move back. “Alexander,” He tried, huffing when Alex only looked down. “Alexander, what’s wrong?” 

 

There was something about the sweet sort of way John asked it that caused Alex to soften around the edges—that, or he’d resigned himself to his fate. 

 

“Look at my twitter.” Was all he said before he burrowed back underneath the covers. Hesitantly, John picked up his phone and logged in. What he saw was not what he was expecting. 

 

"please fucking kill me because i am in love with @turtleboi85. Not like 'oh hey ur my best bud’ kinda love, more like, ‘i’ll buy you flowers and want to have your gaybies’ kind of love. So now i’m writing a rant on twitter about it (again) that I will never pos-“

 

John stared at the words, not processing them. Vaguely in the back of his mind he could see the ‘deactivated’ notice and vaguely he found it hilarious that the one time Alex really needed to delete a tweet he had accidentally sent out he was banned from the site. 

 

Finally, he snapped out of it, looking at the miserable form in front of him. Making a quick decision, John curled up against the lump that was Alex, wrapping his arms around the blanket cocoon. 

 

“You wanna go out some time?” 


	6. Group Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday! You know who you are. Here's some drabbles that were written late at night that will get taken down in a bit.
> 
> A group chat fic but short and not funny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For G. Happy birthday.
> 
>  
> 
> (To anyone else reading, I'm sorry)
> 
> [Oh god, I’m gonna do this again in a month for F. And then when my other friends get into Hamilton (it’ll happen!) I’ll have to do it aGAIN. HELP ME. WHAT DID I SIGN MYSELF UP FOR?]

A.Ham: Note to self: never try to disembowel someone in front of your teacher. 

J. Laur: I keep telling myself to stop conversing with you online because something like this is going to come up. 

A. Ham: U love me tho

J. Laur: Yeah, I do. 

Pegs: Huh. gAY.

Angel: If you keep referencing that dead meme I will actually shoot you in the forehead

Liza(rd): Okay but like, why was Ham trying to disembowel someone? 

Mar-eye-a: More importantly, did he succeed? 

Liza(rd): But like, did Alex take a life, yes or no? 

Liza(rd): Do you need bail money? An escape car?

Mull-ing-it-Over: Slow down mom. As a primary source I can tell you he didn’t physically assault anyone

Mull-ing-it-Over: But Jeff may or may not have brought up reverse racism and called it a thing. 

J. Laur: But

Laf: But

Pegs: But

Liza(rd): But

Mar-eye-a: BuT

Angel: HE’S

Angel: BLACK

A. Ham: ExAcTlY


	7. Careful Sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday! You know who you are. Here's some drabbles that were written late at night that will get taken down in a bit.
> 
>  
> 
> Marliza

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For G. Happy birthday.
> 
>  
> 
> (To anyone else reading, I'm sorry)
> 
> [Oh god, I’m gonna do this again in a month for F. And then when my other friends get into Hamilton (it’ll happen!) I’ll have to do it aGAIN. HELP ME. WHAT DID I SIGN MYSELF UP FOR?]

**Careful Sunlight**

 

Maria likes her tea with milk and vanilla and sugar. 

 

It's taken Eliza a month to figure that out, she doesn't like to make accusations or assumptions but she thinks it has something to do with the light purple color some brains think of when drinking it, the light touch of not-to-hot water and the harshness of her black tea mixed in with light splashes of milk and sugar that brings out the flavors long gone, and it’s sweet but strong. 

 

Maria takes her tea with shaking hands and looks at it like she looks at Eliza, with reverence and patience and the slight fear that she might mess up. 

 

Maria loves her tea, loves it so much that sometimes Eliza thinks its the only thing she looks forward to all day, and that’s partially true, because it’s always Eliza who delivers her the cup with a paper towel under it (to make sure it doesn’t spill and make a mess), and tea time, as she’s deemed it, is a time Maria can look at Eliza the way she looks at her tea and not worry about ruining a dynamic. 

 

So maybe on the day Eliza brings it to her without even asking if she needs it, (the rain always brings out the reader in her, and Maria can’t read without something to distract her with, the pages themselves are not nearly harsh enough) it makes sense that the only thing she looks at with love and affection in the woman in front of her. 

 

Eliza's always preferred her tea straight, but now she takes it with a dash of honey and a drop of vanilla, because it reminds her of Maria and the way her lips tasted that rainy Monday morning. 

 

Together they are content to live their life in lavender. 


	8. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex Fucks Up™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For G. Happy birthday.
> 
>  
> 
> (To anyone else reading, I'm sorry)
> 
> [Oh god, I’m gonna do this again in a month for F. And then when my other friends get into Hamilton (it’ll happen!) I’ll have to do it aGAIN. HELP ME. WHAT DID I SIGN MYSELF UP FOR?]

  
**Okay, I May Have Brought a Complete Stranger into the Apartment, but it’s Christmas!**

  
Alexander Hamilton was notoriously good at fucking up.

This, of course was not all his fault, being born into a poor family on the Carribean with an absent dad and a mother who died when he was 12 didn’t constitute for the best living conditions, but if he was drunk enough, (or you were hot enough), he’d tell you the hurricane was his fault, his mom’s sickness was his fault, and his cousin’s suicide was his fault.

He’ll argue that maybe if he’d payed more attention to the sky his neighbor’s cat wouldn’t have been impaled by a streetlight.

He’ll lecture you on the way yellow fever works, how he had been contagious, how Rachel wouldn’t have contracted it if not around her son.

He’ll go on and on about how obnoxious he was, is, because there’s a sort of humbleness to admitting you’re a constant fuck up.

So yes, Alexander was good at fucking up, which is why it didn’t come as much of a surprise to his friends when he had come into their apartment carrying a body.

“Holy shit!” Lafayette exclaimed, dropping the carrots they had been cutting. Alex made a panicked shushing noise.

“Quiet! He's unconscious and I don’t want him waking up to you screaming.” Hamilton quickly walked over to their couch and, with more care than Lafayette had ever seen him take care of anything with, set the man on their couch and rushed off to get a first aid kit.

Hercules entered the room, surveyed the situation, and sighed despondently.

“Really, Alex?” He asked tiredly, wrapping an arm around Laf’s waist.

“I found him on the street, he looked cold.” Alex responded, hurrying back to the couch and pouring the anti-septic onto a wet rag.

“You took a man off the street because he looked cold? Alex, it’s December in New York for fuck’s sake. Everyone out there is cold!” Hercules said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Shhhh!”

Alex bent down over the stranger, brushed the hair from his face and looked at him.

“I don’t know. I just felt a… sort of connection to him, and look, he doesn’t look homeless, only hurt, and NO ONE should have to spend Christmas hurt or alone.” Alex said, his cheeks burning. He already felt protective over a stranger he met legit not ten minutes ago. Good god Alex.

Lafayette sighed.

“Fine, but if he ends up murdering us and stealing our stuff, I’m not talking to you in the afterlife.” They said, pulling Hercules over to the loveseat next to the couch.

“Hey, can you wake up please?” Alex asked the man softly as he knelt down next to the sofa.

He reached up to touch the man’s shoulder, but his hand was met with air as the stranger instinctually leant away, bracing his eyes shut as if expecting a blow to the face.

“Hey, hey it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The man slowly came too and looked around.

“Wh-where am I?” His voice sounded so broken it tore Alex’s heart in two.

“You’re safe. I found you outside and you looked pretty beat up. You okay?” The stranger looked up and his eye’s met the warmest face he’d ever seen.

“I guess.” He said, trying to shrug but wincing in pain instead.

“Hey, hey, take it easy. Like I said, you don’t seem to be in the greatest shape.” Hamilton said.

“I’m sure talking like that gets you all the guys,” the man said dryly.

Alex snorted.

Alex was flirting with a strange man he found bleeding on the sidewalk.

Alex was a fucking dumbass.

“So… what happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” He said, realizing now probably wasn’t the most opportune time to find a hot date.

The stranger sat for a minute, trying to figure out himself what exactly was the cause for his predicament.

A look of realization dawned on his face and he winced.

“Eh. Got kicked outta the Laurens mansion, made the mistake of sitting down in New York City, got mugged.” He groaned, dragging this hands through his hair and no, Alex you do not find it attractive stop it right now.

“Well, I don’t know if I’m gonna wake up to have my apartment mugged, but if I do I will find you, understand?” Alex said with the heaviness of someone who knew they were making a horrible decision.

“Wait… so you’re letting me… a stranger… in New York City… that you picked up off the streets… sleep on your couch?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing slightly in a manor that fucked with Alex’s stomach because god damn it how do you make an eyebrow furrow look good?

“What can I say?” Alex responded with a wink. “ You’re cute.”


	9. Explode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fire and Fireworks shouldn't work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For G. Happy Birthday. 
> 
>  
> 
> (To anyone else reading, I'm sorry)

Alexander is fire and John is fireworks and somehow they make it work.

They clash and fight and sometimes it goes all wrong, but in the end they are lighting each other’s way, trapped in a continuous circle of dependency, but that’s all right, because they’re going to burn out someday, and at least now it’s with a flare, it’s with a boom, it’s with everything they’ve ever wanted to be, and more.

 

With each other they fly, and if they burn out afterwords there's nothing wrong with becoming ash together, because they know their dangerous stunts can only last so long, but they have a strange sort of promise of forever. 

 

Forever is something neither of them thought they wanted, it used to be sticky and unnecessary, but now they have someone to burn out with, and sometimes, they can't wait to wake up to ash. 


	10. Eggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Only One with Actual Birthdays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For G. Happy birthday.
> 
>  
> 
> (To anyone else reading, I'm sorry)

When John wakes up it’s to the sound of crashing pans and muffled curses. 

Incoherently, he reaches to the left and finds nothing but the cold indent of where a body used to be, finds disappointment and confusion. 

What had waken him up again? Had it been a dream or a noise in the kitchen or a dream noise in a dream kitchen, the details are blurring to John now, so he slips his feet over the side of his bed and stands up. 

In the kitchen he finds burned eggs and a crying husband who can’t stop whispering ‘sorry’. John isn’t sure what he has to be sorry about but he hugs him 'good morning' just the same. 

“I tried to make breakfast,” he explains needlessly, looking down. “It didn’t work out too well.” 

And before he knows it, John has an armful of Crying Husband, saying ‘happy birthday’ and sometimes ‘I’m so sorry’, and finally, heartbreakingly, ‘I’m such a bad husband.” 

“Don’t say that,” John snaps, his grip on Alex tightening. 

“Why not?” 

“Because I don’t give a damn if you can cook eggs or not, and all I want is a good morning kiss.”


	11. Split Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some Mullette for the soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For G. Happy birthday.
> 
>  
> 
> (To anyone else reading, I'm sorry)

The morning light hits Lafayette's hair and Hercules drinks in the feeling of being the first person to see them this morning. 

It isn't like this most days, most days they're traveling and barely spending time together, most days they're "maximizing their time" leaving little to the imagination. 

But today. Today, Hercules can reach out a hand with minimal hesitation and touch those soft curls, so seldom let down, so seldom seen in their full glory, and he does. 

Hercules reaches out and presses himself closer to his beautiful love, and presses a feather light kiss to their forehead, because maybe they don't have each other always, but for now it's forever.


	12. Bikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JeffMads featuring hipster-on-a-bike Madison and ohgodwhy Thomas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For G. Happy birthday.
> 
>  
> 
> (To anyone else reading, I'm sorry)

Jefferson never meant to make an account on Grinder, he’ll swear that up and down, but there he was, checking out a guys' abs and wanting to stab himself in the fucking eye. 

 

And now that he looks back on it, no matter how embarrassing creating an account was, the fact that he met his boyfriend not through the app but through means much worse was worse. 

 

He had been sitting at a cafe, back to the world and heart on a hard drive, when a biker had literally crashed into the outside fencing. 

 

The impact enough had sent his phone reeling out of his hands, which in turn sent the stranger into a panicked flurry of ‘oh my god’s and ‘if it’s cracked I’ll fucking kill myself’s. 

 

Luckily, when the biker did finally get to his phone, it was not cracked. 

 

Unluckily, it was still open to the Grinder app. 

 

But yeah, all in all, signing up for the stupid thing was probably the best thing that ever happened to him, because the next thing the stranger said was,

 

“You wanna go out sometime?"

**Author's Note:**

> Love you girl. Don't kill me for all of this. 
> 
> (To anyone else reading, I'm sorry)


End file.
